Nomikomp
by KennySheep
Summary: Like Pokémon, but in text form. Read and review, for if you don't I will cry manly tears and think sad things. Now with 20% less fat.
1. Larvitar

Ash sat in his mountain pass, eating beans with a rock that he thought may be alive. "Your stomach looks like an egg" Ash said to the rock, slowly chewing beans through his words to fill each syllable with the sweet scent of plant life that would never get a chance to grow.

The rock only glared back, as it was of noble blood and had no reason to listen to the comments of the common man. Having no blood in the first place was only a small problem for one of his royal heritage.

"It is a poorly made egg" Ash added upon further reflection, "it is not the right shape or shade at all". The stone tried to think of a suitable rebuttal, but none came to mind so instead he did his best to put on a mad face and chew beans at the same time. He found the results of this pleasing, as would Ash if he wasn't focusing too hard on what he thought may or may not be egg shaped. It felt and tasted correct, so Ash had to have a great internal debate between his eyes and his tongue to make his conclusions in this case.

"Could you please stop examining my belly?" The rock asked, "My father was a great king of men and destroyer of mountains, I don't deserve this humiliation"

"My father left my mom when I was 3, I believe that is why she drinks" Ash replied. The rock found this very sad. Ash wanted to know if that made them friends, but the rock never responded in a way he could understand.

He didn't mind though, as the beans were very good.


	2. Psyduck

"The headaches won't go away" The duck told Misty. Misty looked over the bird's head knowingly. She was the doctor to his patent, both figuratively and in the bedroom in which she was checking his skull.

"It looks like an OK head to me" She replied. It was a lie though, the yellow feathers clashed horribly with the off yellow walls and floor. Only the cheery blue bed was a fitting color scheme for that head, but she had never seen the two side by side.

"Well, it only hurts on the inside, you see" The duck told her. Misty nodded and stroked a goatee she totally failed to have. It made her look smart and powerful, like a doctor with a goatee should look. The imaginary nature of the beard was balanced out by the fact that no one would ever question her claims of beard ownership enough to notice. Also, the duck's pain was too intense to see. His eyes looked blindly at what may or may not have been a doctor with a beard.

"I will need to remove your brain for study" Misty told her pokemon. The duck did not fully understand, as it was only a duck. "Only then will you be well"

"Will it still hurt?" The duck asked.

"Yes" replied misty, "but it will hurt in a totally different area". Her voice was calm and soothing, much like the blade plunging into the poor bird's eye.

"Where will it hurt then?" The duck used his last words to ask.

"I was thinking the table" Misty replied. "Or maybe the mantel, I don't know, where would you keep a brain?"

The duck never replied. It's spirit had left its body many years ago.


	3. Swinub

The brown, fuzzy ball of icy torment sat atop its pillar of frozen water, which was a thousand miles high and would have been quite impressive as a fortress if nature had not made the unfortunate decision to place it within a pit of near equal depth, leavening the blob like creature's snout around nipple high to the girl standing beside it, who also happened to be standing in a pit.

"I'm cold" Misty said to the ball of fur, her life being leached away by the surrounding winter.

"I'm not", the pokemon would have replied if it were not for the handicap of only being able to state its own name repeatedly, but within its name the mocking laughter was able to shine through. Misty was not amused.

"This makes us sworn enemies, you know" Misty tried to point at the furry mass, but her finger snapped off to be lost forever in the frozen powder that covered this once beautiful land. There was still a world of grass and trees and sunshine somewhere below, and as the finger sunk it dreamed of the day it would reach this blessed place to forever bask in the warming glow of total peace. This land also had a brutal, authoritative monarch who ruled with an iron fist, but severed body parts rarely concern themselves with such things.

Misty bit the soft mass of fuzz on the snout. It retaliated by breathing on her all the cold that it had trapped inside the heat of its outsides. The weather was considerably colder than even this devastating blow, however, so Misty welcomed the heat of frozen doom. The arctic fur cursed that he had allowed a victim to die as happy as she was, as a grinning skull would ruin the cohesion of his cold, unhappy skull collection. He tried telling Misty a sad story of puppies in her final moments, but it was wasted effort and the feng shui of the skull pile was ruined forever more.

It was only then that he discovered what sorrow really was.


	4. Porygon

Ash sat upon his throne of withered flesh, comforted by the feeling of dead skin rubbing on his supple nethers. He had been weeping into the handkerchief of one who was no longer, although the tears were not for her and never would be. The pink of the fabric was now blotched; the attempts at optimism ruined due to nothing more than a tragic decision of function.

"Tell me about your childhood", the good therapist said to the sobbing mass, each carefully chosen world reshaping his own personal reality as he flickered in and out of any meaningful existence.

"My childhood was not good" Ash spoke to the ceiling, which poignantly refused to answer, "My mother never had enough time for me, except for when she had far too much time for me".

"I see, I see" the therapist replied, committing every word to memory and then emailing the memory to all who may wish to possess it. His services were kept cheap due to the lack of confidentiality; the amusement value was payment enough. Laughter is the best medicine, and he was indeed quite sick.

"I imagine my inner child as a white haired, blue eyed little girl" Ash continued, "If I ever meet this child, I will name her Mindy, call her a whore and beat her with my bare fists. Only then will she see the path of the lord".

The mass of pixels nodded, silently twisting Ash's words into a humours limerick to pain.

There once was a young man from Pallet.

Who's penis was not close to phallic.

The construct wrote that much, but did not know how to continue. It was not even sure if the first two lines actually rhymed. In his distraction, the therapist failed to realise until then Ash had been cutting through the soft skin of his wrists with the psychiatrist's sharpest edged. Thinking fast, the creature of code and internet turned on a happy song. None could ever die when the whimsical music plays


	5. Ditto

"Poor little Whitney, life not going your way, is it?" the pink ooze gurgled as it rose from the ashes of what once was.

"Go away" Whitney mumbled, running her charred fingers through the scorched remains of her cow, leaving a pattern of happy faces as a feeble mask to the tragedy. The ever growing slime would only serve to distract her from the task of bringing cheer to all those who had survived.

"Come now, is that any way to greet your salvation?" the pink, gelatinous blob replied, beady eyes filled with all knowing hatred just breaking the surface of the sickly body. "I come here to save your wretched life; you should be welcoming me with open arms and minds!"

Whitney ignored it. The happy face needed hair and glasses to truly be happy, so she drew the whimsical features into the ash. If her cow were still alive, she would have found it to be poorly executed, as the wind kept shifting the features to turn the joyous smile into a grimace of unwanted pain. The cow would have also objected to the use of her cremated remains being used for such a low degree of art.

The pink blob rose from the ground, manipulating its unholy body by willpower alone. Arms formed where none should ever have been, tearing the girl from her sacred work. Legs sprouted to support the twisted mass, the pink skin of unquenchable envy became the tan of stolen dreams and the beady eyes widened into hazel orbs, currently contorted in pain from the rape of form and function. Hair of a most improbable shade of pink sprouted from the savage parody's head, and at last the illusion was complete.

Whitney would have backed away if not held down by the creature, for she now knew what she saw. This was an image of herself, before the fires had consumed her life but not before the fires had consumed the clothing she once so recklessly contained herself in.

"Join me!" the mirror of life and dreams shouted, forcing Whitney into the ruins of her house and friends, "together we shall be greater than the sum of our parts! The world will forever tremble under our grasp! To see us shall teach them the name of the lord!"

"Sorry" Whitney replied "but I hate myself and by extension you. Could you please get off me now? We are making my ash face very sad".

"I can take any form though, my potential is infinite" The form of the girl said, letting known the ancient power that flooded through its very being.

"Is one of those forms me?"

"Yes...."

"Then I still hate you" Whitney replied, filling each syllable with contempt at the form that had ruined her life so many times over.

The stolen form of Whitney cried for its loss, the real Whitney patted its head. In the morning, they would go their separate ways and never speak of this again.


	6. Blissey

"This is your dinner" The bunny declared, holding out a large egg to the hungry customer before her. The girl trembled in anticipation of the meal she was about to consume, she had no other wants or needs in her life.

"It is delicious as a meal, but one bite, no matter how small, will end the innocent life that dwells within" The bunny continued happily, eyes wide with delight as it advertised its product. "Every bite, you will realize more and more what this life could have accomplished, what amazing good or great evils it could have done if it flourished, all ended simply for your dinner enjoyment".

Misty looked at the egg, then at the rabbit trying to serve her the same meal that would have ended her own life so many years ago. "You know, I think I just lost my appetite" Misty said, pushing the egg away despite the rebellion from her stomach. "You have ruined food for me forever".

"Yes" replied the bunny, "I do that sometimes".


	7. Miltank

Whitney gazed at the wooden floor hard enough that it would likely have burst into flames if it was in any way aware that it was being gazed upon. There was little else to do, the gym was empty of anything more interesting then the gym leader herself and her cow, who sat there chewing cud.

"I'm bored", Whitney informed the cow, who regarded her words with vague interest. The sound echoed across the room, returning as a cruel mockery of Whitney and the one thing she truly believed. Or perhaps the room was bored as well and wished to express that fact, using the twisted voice of the one who owned it. There was no way to ever know for sure, it was simply the nature of the room.

"I almost wish I were dead, at least it may be interesting" Whitney mumbled, her voice penetrating the cow's skull just far enough to inform it that she would likely not be milked today. The cow needed to be milked, and the thought of her owner dropping to her knees and suckling the life-giving fluid from her teats was the only thing that kept her going in life. The cud would be honored to know the roll it would play in this, if only it knew.

"I read once that when we die, we rule over a universe created in our own image" Whitney continued, each word falling on the deaf ears of the cow like puppies falling unknown upon a faceless void. "I wonder what mine would be like. Probably sort of like this room, only bigger.... and with less people" she kicked the floor at the threat of it ever expanding. It didn't even have a carpet; it was not a floor one could be proud of. The cow chewed more cud.

"I read that idea in a porno, you know" The cow listened but did not comprehend, as it would distract from the pressing issue of torturing the cud. The grass prayed that the stomach would one day provide it refuge from the brutality of the mouth.

"I really did like that as a porno, but I'm not sure if I should base my whole religion off it" Whitney told her beloved cow. "Do you think this is a good idea?"

The cow didn't think so, but said nothing.


	8. Pikachu

"Go away rodent, I do not like your eyes" Ash moaned from the pain of a life completely wasted. He would simply have looked away from the hideous creature god had set before him, but his chains did not allow for such things. He was cursed to forever gaze upon the greatest of his sins.

"I apologize, let me remove the problem for you" The yellow rat replied, crackling with electric delight as it reached into the deep fissure where once it's face had been to remove the offending orb. Once out, the creature smashed it into the dust of the damned, leaving it to forever remind the prisoners that they were being watched, and none liked what they saw. The prison was a bad one, as only the most wretched of souls would spend their days within its walls. The food was often cold but the beverages were often warm, a system devised to add to the suffering of those who had grown bored of the torture. But Ash would never grow weary of such things, and he shuddered with absolute delight when he learned the true limits of the human body.

The one pokemon to follow ash to his fate spat in his face. The mouth had long since been rendered vestigial by the great unholy gash of broken dreams, but the ability to spit remained, as the monster had too much remaining spite to want to lose such a valuable means of self-expression. The cool liquid parched Ash's mind and wet his eyes enough to see once again. The room was blue, he had always assumed it would be green. No sadness could penetrate walls of such a whimsical color, leaving all the negative energy to pool in the room in a noxious air of crushing oppression. The mouse breathed in the fumes, they tasted of vinegar.

"There is no excuse for your life" the rodent spat again, blood oozing from the gash with the words to form a semi-liquid mass on the dusty floor, "None who fight for you survive, so you should not be able to avoid them". The other eye dripped out into the goo. Ash greedily consumed it, letting the sweet jelly play upon his lips like children in the sand. No children would ever reach this realm, but sometimes he wished he was one of them, dancing in and out of a metaphor while his body remained behind, uncared for and unloved as the electric storm continued to rend flesh from bone. The emotional detachment would have been less painful then living through it.

Ash's body fell forward to be consumed by the minion he betrayed, but the soul remained in his chains. Only by sheer force of will did he continue to remain imprisoned, as he felt no suffering could be worse than the fear of the unknown outside these walls. That day the meal was soup, he found it to be lukewarm at best. His pokemon agreed.


	9. Parasect

"The fungus demands you have this egg" the insect said, due to a tendril of harsh alien thought being pumped into its brain by a much more literal tendril of flesh hungry fungus. The fungus digested the same weight of the insect's brain as the mass of thought it would introduce each time, keeping the universe perfectly balanced within the creature's skull.

Misty could only gaze at the egg, as she had not yet been given it. Her hair was as red as the urine sample of Satan himself, and her eyes reflected a deep knowing of pain and suffering. As she sat in the pool of her own unreasonable depression, she profoundly understood that the mushroom covered insect in front of her would like to eat her in her sleep.

Still, she had no choice but to pick up the egg.

"how does it feel?" Inquired the fungus.

"Like an eggshell"

"Indeed"

They both sat and watched the river flow by to god knows where. The cool, pure water would have been greatly appreciated by the drought starved towns just downriver where usually the stream would flow, but as more people than just god knew where that was the river was forced to change its course. Some had argued that they should simply follow the river from the point that they knew where it was to find where they were unsure of where it was, but others argued that the expedition would be ruined by the killer insect fungus.

The mushroom would have agreed with that sentiment, if anyone had of been around to tell him of it. The tranquility of the mountain's aura of love and restfulness had left Misty comatose, her head pressing into the mushroom's fleshy depths leaving an imprint deeper then the hole in her very soul. If he had hands instead of deadly, scythe shaped pincers used to execute the living, the insect's shroom addled brain would have instructed him to pat her head and sing her to sleep in a language none now dared to speak. Instead, he was forced to fill her with spores in the most romantic way he could think of, which was an action that left both of them ravaged with the steel fury of the almighty claw. This was the action the mushroom had wished to avoid in the first place, but there was no other option. With a kiss they fell asleep. Misty dreamed of cats.

"Oh my god, the egg is a bomb!" Ash shouted into his cornflakes, a thousand miles away from the mountain pass he had spent an uncomfortably cramped night with his own subconscious all those years ago. The cornflakes seemed indifferent, Ash made a note of eating them with more of a brutal hatred then he normally attributed to his breakfast foodstuffs.

"What's wrong, honey?" Ash's mom asked, not looking up from her paper. The mall was having a sale on microwaves. The current microwave worked just fine, but the smell was beginning to bother her. The collective attempt of each meal to resemble anything but food was a futile effort to save their own lives, but it did become an inconvenience at times when the effort of cleaning the microwave seemed to equal the cost of buying one.

"My friend, she is about to die. Do not ask me how I know, I just do!" Ash gargled, the cornflakes in his mouth dripping out to taste the sweet zest of freedom.

"Don't worry, honey" Ash's mom comforted her newspaper, in case it was troubled by the news, "I'm sure everyone is fine. Although reality is largely influenced by our perceptions, so if anything is wrong for the moment, I'm sure it is entirely your fault". The newspaper said war had been declared again, she silently cursed at the difficulty this would add to getting to the store.

Ash glared into his cornflakes. He would ensure each and every one suffered as he delivered them to their acidy fate.


	10. Chansey

Ash hit his head off the polished yet ugly desk of the pokemon center, upon which he would have liked to place his pokemon in the hopes that one day they would be healed. Greed and incompetence had lead to the price of health to climb infinitely from nothing to 3 berries and a fishing rod of considerable quality. A barter based system was novel in the fact that money had no inherent value as a good or a service. This system was used only at these centers, due to the nurses all being bunnies who poop eggs and who have no love of the nation's capitalist overlords. Their greed was more a thirst for the tears of anguish of their preferred clientele, who were rich from the perpetual looting of each other but who's deep wallets failed to remind them to stop and smell the flowers upon which they would realise no berries would ever grow, but for the moment it was the prevalent theory as no-one will ever bother to check.

"I do not wish for you to survive the night", one of these pink givers of healing and depression and occasionally eggs informed Ash as he continued to abuse his skull with the distinguished oak countertop, an action deemed unenjoyable by both head and desk.

The sound distracted Ash from his own self slaughter, saving his life most defiantly. His forehead continued to leak out the sum total of his many years of frustration and anger, as well as a copious amount of blood. The universe had reduced itself down to a tunnel of light, the end of which contained the rabbit upon which he let his blood flow. The angle he needed to stand to achieve this was an awkward one indeed, and the planning it required to position his body as such showed a level of malice rarely seen in such a holy land.

"Do you wish to explain yourself?" Ash inquired to the bunny. It had been lapping the blood off its own face at the time and it seemed rude to interrupt such a delicate act, but something must be done. Not being long for this world installs that sense of rushed purpose in people.

"No, I would not like to at this moment in time" the rabbit replied and it licked clean the last few drops of Ash's essence from its accomplice's face. There was more than one rabbit, but Ash could only see one, forcing him to assume it was licking its own face and not the other way around. "Sometimes I feel the medical profession is too big a burden for me, as I learned the alphabet from my time viewing porn on cocaine".

Ash merely nodded and gazed into the distance as the pink, egg laying mammal that brought him into this world split him open for the few remaining drops of his sweet fluids. He shed a single tear for all he had hurt and abused during his travels before being overtaken by the void of dark oblivion. In the distance, a dog stood on a hill and barked. It would have been very poignant if any had bothered to listen to it. Sadly, that would never be the case.


End file.
